


An Impossible Choice

by DraconisFelicis (Ravenhoot)



Series: Musings of the Santos Brothers [1]
Category: Caraval Series - Stephanie Garber
Genre: Angst and Feels, Could Be Canon, F/M, Heavy Angst, Legend's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 04:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenhoot/pseuds/DraconisFelicis
Summary: Legend's POV of the scene on the steps of the Temple of the Stars.





	An Impossible Choice

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE spoilers for the end of _Legendary_.

“Tella, what are you doing?” He asked a second time, panic replacing his confusion as he saw her name written in blood upon the card. It glistened under the moonlight, far too innocently for what it meant. 

“I’m being the hero,” she replied. 

He tried to snatch the card away from her, but it was done. On the card imprisoning her mother was the name  _ Donatella Dragna _ . Legend recoiled, knowing that it was his own immortal blood mixed with hers that even allowed the magic to work. 

Legend knew what was about to happen. He was furious that she’d been so selfless as to sacrifice herself, he was sick at the thought of never seeing her again, but most of all, he was terrified of how much he cared. 

“I’m so sorry I failed you,” he said thickly, brushing tears from her cheeks. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. His foolproof plan to recover the cards and destroy the Fates had not allowed for consideration the fact that her mother might have been trapped among the cursed Fates. 

“I lied to my sister about our kiss,” Tella admitted. 

Legend brought his hand to the back of her head and pulled her close enough to kiss her forehead. She had a mere moment before she became nothing but ink and paper and she spent those precious seconds trying to reassure him. She was too pure, too  _ good  _ for him. He did not deserve her kindness. 

“I know,” he murmured. 

He barely had time to meet her eyes before she abruptly vanished - dark magic surrounding the card as it drifted gently to the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut, counted to five, and opened them with a deep exhale, hoping beyond hope that somehow, the magic had failed. 

The card lay face up on the steps of the temple. Tella was frozen in place on the card, a vision of beauty and serenity, yet delicate enough to be torn in half with a mere flick of the wrist. A light breeze tousled his hair. He bent down and snatched the card up before the wind could blow it away. He held the card in both hands and pressed it against his lips. 

“Why?” He breathed against the card. “Why did you do this, Donatella?” 

Except he knew why. She did what she thought she must to protect both him and her mother. Despite the conflicting feelings she’d felt for her mother, she still loved her. Rather than allow her mother to be destroyed along with the Fates (which they ultimately deserved), Tella had stubbornly taken Paloma’s place; and Tella was, above all things, the most stubborn girl Legend had ever met. She was tenacious and firey… and she would stop at nothing to protect those she loved. It was one of the things that had made him begin to fall in love with her.

But love was practically a death sentence for an immortal. He couldn’t love her and remain Legend, with all of his magic and mystery. The two were mutually exclusive… if he loved Tella, he would cease to be Legend, and if he wasn’t Legend, who was he? 

_ No one,  _ a sinister voice whispered inside his head.  _ Dante the discarded. The bastard whose own mother didn’t want him.  _ He’d been Legend for so long, he’d lost his own identity. He couldn’t go back now for there was nothing to go back to. He could only go forward. 

But he could not abandon Tella to the fate of being trapped inside a card. If she had just given him the Deck of Destiny, he would have found a way to free her mother before destroying the deck. Even if he’d had to persuade (or trick, more likely) some poor unsuspecting soul into trading places with her. 

Legend loved no one and there was only a short list of people he cared enough about to protect… but Tella was at the top of that list. He would move heaven and earth before he would let any harm come to her. He halfheartedly considered taking the entire Deck of Destiny back to the palace and finding someone to take her place… but he knew the longer she remained inside that card, the worse she would be when she was finally released. 

He knew what he needed to do. Legend retrieved the rest of the cards from the box Tella had been carrying and glanced at the images on them - each Fate frozen in place. Though they couldn’t move, Legend still could feel their magic pulsating, as if they knew they were moments away from being freed. Legend didn’t want to release them - the Fates deserved the eternal hell of being trapped inside the Deck; but Tella did not. Tella was good and kind and compassionate - everything he wasn’t. She deserved to smile and laugh and have her skin kissed by the warmth of the sun… not to be condemned to an unending paper prison. In that moment, Legend hated Paloma or Paradise or whatever the hell her name was. It was her fault Tella was even in this situation. 

He didn’t want to imagine the fight that was about to be before him. In truth, he didn’t even know if it was a fight he could win. He knew what he was about to unleash on the world, and he sent up a silent prayer of forgiveness to the saints for what he was about to do. But a world with the Fates on the loose and wreaking havoc was still better than a world without Tella in it. She’d only been trapped in a card for minutes and the world already seemed less bright. 

Before anything could change his mind, Legend retrieved Tella’s ring and sliced open his palm. His hand shook, though not from fear; it shook with rage at the act he had to complete in order to get Tella back. He swiftly completed the ritual, uttering the ancient, forbidden words that would set the Fates free… and he heard the stars gasp in astonishment. 

A swell of relief passed over Legend when Tella reappeared on the steps in front of him. The moment she’d regained corporeal form, he’d dropped the cards to the ground in order to cradle her close to him. The cards from the Deck were now blank - their ornate, golden frames contained nothing, yet they filled Legend with foreboding. 

Legend wanted to doubt his earlier suspicion and tried to convince himself that he only set the Fates free because Tella didn’t deserve to be trapped inside those cards. But when he peered down at her weak, delicate form, his eyes filled with concern and his chest tightened, as if something was squeezing his heart. What he suspected could not be. 

As if to test a theory, he tried to manifest a raging thunderstorm on this calm serene night. Weak wispy clouds appeared but the tumultuous clap of thunder he tried to create merely rumbled non-threateningly, sounding more like the purring of a cat. Legend focused more energy into the illusion, trying to create a downpour worthy of a monsoon but the raindrops that fell onto his shoulders didn’t even soak through his jacket. Each pathetic droplet of rain that spattered his raven hair felt like a mockery. The stars peered down with renewed interest. It intrigued them greatly that the boy seemed unable to summon magic at the expense of this girl. 

He squeezed his eyes closed once more and balled his fists, as if the intense concentration would reign in his wayward magic. Tella moaned softly and her eyes fluttered open. Legend’s pathetic storm vanished altogether. 

“Wha-what?” Tella stammered. “What happened?”

Legend knelt and cradled her against his chest. She was trembling and the tightness in his chest intensified. 

“I broke the curse that imprisoned the Fates,” he explained flatly. “I know you were willing to sacrifice yourself to save your mother,” Legend croaked. “But I wasn’t willing to sacrifice you.” 

A deep crease formed between Tella’s brows. Legend understood the source of her confusion. If he’d destroyed the Fates, he would have harnessed all of their powers. He would no longer have to wait until Caraval each year to feel his power peak. He’d lusted for the Fates’ magic for decades. When he’d finally learned that Paradise was Tella and Scarlett’s mother, he’d created this game with the goal to retrieve the cards and finally unlock the limitless power he’d so desperately craved. 

But Tella had been the wild card of the game. The role he’d fashioned for himself in his own game had ended up playing him, instead of him playing it. He’d fallen for this girl… and that had changed everything. 

It terrified him. He’d fought it every step of the way, but his inability to produce a measly thunderstorm illusion all but confirmed it. If he gave her his heart, he’d lose his magic. Just as he wasn’t willing to sacrifice Tella to destroy the Fates, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice his magic to love. 

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” Tella whispered. “I think that means you’re the hero after all.” 

Legend scowled. He wasn’t her hero… she just didn’t know it yet. She delicately reached for his neck, pulling him down to her and pressing her lips to his. 

He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, hold her tightly, and kiss her until the world ended. He fought against the desire to return her kiss. She drew back slightly, doubt creeping across her beautiful face. Legend kissed the side of her mouth as softly as a whisper. The tightness around his heart had intensified until he thought he might die from it. He knew this feeling - it had been his once, long ago, when Annalise rejected him. He’d never thought he would feel it again. With every breath, it felt as is his heart and his magic were at war, both trying desperately to pull him in different directions. 

He had to escape this. He didn’t want to hurt her, but every moment spent with her, not loving her, was physical agony for him. He had to distance himself before he lost his magic and immortality altogether. 

“What’s wrong?” Tella’s voice sounded so tiny, so fragile. 

“I need to leave,” he said quietly. 

The lines of confusion and doubt returned to her flawless face. It made him sick that he was the cause of them. 

“Goodbye, Tella,” Legend said. His voice was empty and emotionless as he walked away from her. Though he couldn’t see her, he could practically feel the hurt and betrayal from her eyes boring a hole through him. Each step that took him farther away from her felt like a mile. Something, probably his magic in all its wretched selfishness, told him not to turn around. Not to look at her one more time. He didn’t listen, but oh, how he wished he had. 

When he glanced back at her, the lines of doubt were still there, but there was also something so much worse. Hope. Tella still hoped he would come back to her, to pick her up off the steps and carry her to warmth and safety. To love her. 

He was resigned never to love, for love would be his undoing. A heart that didn’t love could never be broken, yet as he turned his back to her once more, it felt as if each thud of his boots against the cobblestones was a chisel breaking piece after piece of his unbreakable heart. 


End file.
